


Only for you Golden Boy

by sugarmoons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fire whiskey, Gryffindor dorms, M/M, Snark, lightweight Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23361349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarmoons/pseuds/sugarmoons
Summary: Draco wakes up after a night of partying in the Gryffindor common room, maybe the bottle of fire whiskey wasn't the brightest idea.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 99





	Only for you Golden Boy

Draco peeled open his eyes to see a half asleep, shirtless Harry Potter beside him. It was at that moment that he decided fire whiskey was no longer his drink of choice.

Harry shuffled about before sitting up, “Morning,” he croaked.  
“Morning,” Draco squeaked back.

Out of everyone at the party he’d chosen the boy-who-lived to fuck. Was he that dumb of a drunk to think that was a good idea? He buried his head in the pillow, inhaling the smell of broom polish, stale treacle tarts and Harry’s deodorant. He melted at the smell. If anything he had officially managed to seduce Harry Potter after Merlin knows how many years of hopeless pining. He never expected it to be when he was pissed and completely unaware.

“We didn’t have sex, Malfoy, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

So not only was he a dumb drunk. He was a dumb drunk who couldn’t seduce someone into bed yet he somehow still ended up waking up beside his long term crush. 

“Not concerned, Potter, but I would like to know why I’m in your bed.”  
Harry smirked, “Has anyone told you that you can’t handle alcohol?”  
“Never,” Draco glared.  
“Well this is me, telling you, that you can not handle alcohol.”  
“There’s no proof of that.”  
“The fact that you are in my bed and confused is proof enough.”

Draco sat up, realising that he was in fact as shirtless as Harry with only a pair of pyjama bottoms that were certainly not his.

“Where are my clothes Potter?”  
“Somewhere on the floor, you complained that you were too hot and that your trousers were too tight. So as you started getting undressed I let you borrow a pair of my pyjamas but you said the shirt was hideous and that you were only going to wear the bottoms as a polite formality.”

Draco’s face burned. Last night sounded like a mess, he got drunk, did not in fact seduce Harry potter but did in fact call his pyjama choices hideous and strip down in front of him. He couldn’t be a bigger fool if he tried.

“Right then,” Draco paused before he jumped out of Harry’s bed and started looking for the clothes he was wearing last night, “Potter, where are your roommates?”  
“Either downstairs in the common room or elsewhere, you weren’t the only drunk guy last night to do some things they wouldn’t have usually done.”

His silk shirt was easy to find amongst Harry’s dark clothes which were strewn across the floor but his black trousers were much harder.

“I can’t find my trousers.” Draco looked up at Harry expectantly.  
“Borrow a pair of mine?” Harry offered.  
“I could but mine were designers and custom fitted, it’d be a waste of money to leave them here.”  
“Merlin Malfoy, could you sound any farther up yourself?”  
“Only for you Golden Boy,” Draco quipped back.  
Harry rolled his eyes, “I’ll help,” He said, dragging himself up from his bed.

Harry began to toss all his clothes onto his bed. Ignoring if they were clean, dirty or somew  
here inbetween.

“Do you know what tidying is?” Draco asked.  
“No, I have no clue what you’re on about, Malfoy,” Harry retorted before pulling up a pair of trousers he wouldn’t dare to wear, even if he was on death row, “I think I’ve found them Malfoy.”  
“Thanks, Potter.” Draco took them out of Harry’s calloused hands.

He pulled off Harry’s pyjamas and pulled on his trousers that in the light of day looked more scandalous than they did the night prior.

“Nice trousers, Malfoy,” Harry teased, obviously staring at Draco’s ass.  
“Nicer than yours, Potter.”  
“Pretty sure mine would look nicer if they were on you.”  
“Bye, Potter,” Draco sighed halfway towards the door.  
“See you later, Malfoy.”  
“Hopefully,” Draco whispered, walking out of the Gryffindor dorms feeling like his organs had turned to jelly.


End file.
